Really Tho?
by Paige1292
Summary: Relationships can be beautiful, but trying. Man we used to do everything together. She used to put her trust in me, and vice versa, but...she changed on me. I love her, but how can I be with someone that don't trust me no more? We need a resolution, quick.
1. Another Day, Another Sleepover

REALLY THO?

_Story title inspired by Fab's song on his mixtape 'The Soul Tape' entitled, 'Really Tho'._

**Major Characters:**

Jazmine Dubois (23), Huey Freeman (23), Michael Caesar (24), Cindy McPhearson (22), Riley Freeman (21), Stacia Jackson (21)

**Minor Characters:**

Lamaar Stevens (20), Marcus O'Neal (21), Tom and Sarah Dubois (mid 40s), Ed Wuncler III and Gin Rummy (mid 30s), Tina and Anton Jackson (mid 40s), Robert Freeman (age unknown)

My first Riley story, ya'll! :)

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN BD!

So you all already know about the FanFic Admin thing. Smh, pissed me off, but aye, lesson learned. No cursing on the summary, got it lol. Anyways, here's the story ya'll.

* * *

CHAPTER 1: ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER SLEEPOVER

Another day, another argument, another sleepless night on the living room sofa.

This shit is fucking ridiculous! That damn 'honeymoon' stage we had is long gone. We don't even know how to talk to each other anymore. Every day is the same! All we do is alternate between fighting and fucking, and the sex isn't even sensual. We just go at each other like wild animals! Where's the love in that? While I do enjoy the roughness, sometimes we need to take our time and be romantic. We take our anger out on each other. That shit ain't right! I know I sound like a pussy ass nigga right now, but word I miss those days!

I miss how we used to talk about anything and how she just sounded so sweet. She made my day just by being by my side. Hell, I remember a time when she didn't even yell. She just held a firm tone when she was mad or upset. She used to even get on me about calling a bitch a bitch! What does she do now?

Call a bitch a bitch! Accuse me of sneaking around, although she knows damn well I work night shifts! I'm coming through the door at 12:30 lookin' tired as fuck, work clothes all wrinkled up and shit, and here she come standing in the kitchen with her arms folded and a nasty ass attitude on her face.

"Why yo' clothes wrinkled? Did you fuck some bitch and try to make me think you really work at night? Do you think I'm stupid? Who's that bitch? Nigga, you cheatin' on me?"

I just want to go "Shut the fuck up!" but I don't like to yell at her. If you plan on yelling at a female, you better plan on having a shitload of comebacks, nigga. I don't ever know what to say when she get on that stupid shit. I try telling her I'm not interested in nobody else, but she too angry to hear shit! Either way, whether I respond to her or not, she gon' keep yelling. So I learned to try to ignore her.

Honestly though, her not trusting me hurts. Like, why the fuck did she stop? She relied on me for everything, and vice versa. I never gave her a reason for not putting her trust in me, so what's the problem?

Man, I'm still tryna figure out where she got this insecurity from. She too fine, and her personality was on point! I guess when people been together for too long, they start thinking about some crazy shit and go crazy themselves, but that ain't a good enough excuse for me, and I don't know if I can really handle that shit. I ain't no punk, but on the real, I'm about done with this bullshit.

I don't know what to do. I love her too much to let her go, but I think letting go just may be the solution to our problem.

Either that, or just going on a vacation far away with my niggas for like…ten weeks! Even if that happens, she'll accuse me of 'sleeping with all the Spanish women'!

We need some sort of a miracle in order to work this out.

* * *

You know what his problem is? He gets offended too easily! I simply asked if he was ever going to cut his hair and he looked at me like I killed his cat or something. I just said whatever and he said some slick shit under his breath. Can you believe him?

And as far as his 'night shifts' go, I don't fully believe it. Why this nigga always creeping inside of the house at night? There's only two reasons why people creep in houses: because they want to steal, or because they were cheating.

Now, I'm not one to be so insecure, but lately he hasn't even looked at me the same. He used to be mesmerized by me, and I'm not an arrogant person, but I really enjoyed that. He used to talk to me about anything, but a week after he got that job, it's like the wall I had broken a long time ago was building itself right on up again. When we get together now, we argue or have rough sex. I can't even explain it. Like, the fireworks are diminishing rapidly. I really miss how we used to be, but since he changed on me, I can't trust him. I don't know what he's hiding, I don't know what he's doing. I know it's wrong to just accuse him of sleeping with some woman, but I don't know what else to think with him acting weird and all.

I still love him, but I wish he'd just open up so we could work this thing out!

* * *

I love this man to death. He may be blunt, sarcastic, and way too harsh, but he's such a sweetheart. All that he does, he tries to help his people and I really love that about him. I also love the way he makes me feel. He makes me feel important, beautiful, empowered, all of that. And whenever we're alone, he really makes me feel good.

Especially when he's doing what he's doing now.

I moan slightly as I feel his sweet lips softly press against my neck. He's such a tease and as much as I love it, I can't wait to have all of him!

"Baby, hurry up please." I beg in a small voice. I feel his lips spread, as if he's smiling and he lifts his head to look at me a bit. I look back at him and notice his adorable smirk. I smile back and give him a quick kiss on the lips. His smirk doesn't go away before he attacks my neck again. Ugh! He doesn't listen!

I'm rendered speechless as he kisses me all over and pretty soon we both go at it. Just as we're really getting into it, we hear something that shifts our moods a bit.

The doorbell.

We both stop in the middle of our lovemaking, and look at each other. I look at him, not knowing whether to get up or ignore it, and he looks at me with a look that basically read 'You better not get up'.

I smile amusedly and we continue until we hear it again. He lets out a frustrated groan and hesitantly gets up, much to our displeasure. After he's dressed in his night clothes, he turns to me with a look of remorse.

"I'll be back shortly." He promises. I nod and watch as he opens and closes the door behind him.

* * *

Goddamn interruptions!

Who the hell could this be knocking on my door at 5:30 in the morning? I hope whatever the reason, it's important because if not, then Jehovah Witnesses are going too far if you ask me.

In my sweatpants and a white t-shirt, I open the front door to find my little brother, Riley, standing there looking pretty exhausted.

Oh yeah, and a suitcase in his hand.

I frown at his unexpected visit, but move aside to let him in. He smiles and greets me as usual.

"What's good, nigga?" He sounds tired, but still trying to make small talk. I shrug as we walk over and take a seat on the couch.

"I'm good, what about you? You alright man?" I inquire knowingly. Lately, he and Stacia had some problems they needed to work out, and as I noticed him with a packed suitcase, I put two and two together.

"She kicked you out again?" I ask monotonously.

He smiles weakly and sighs. "Yeah. You know how it is."

I actually…don't know how it is, but I just nod anyways. I won't start the interrogation right now.

I let out an exasperated sigh. "Why here, Riley?"

He looks at me crazily and scoffs. "Nigga, you my brother! The fuck kinda question is that?"

I sigh again, but don't answer. I guess he's right, but of all the inappropriate times…

"So, what you doin' up this early anyways, nigga?" He asks, changing the subject. I guess he notices that I didn't just wake up and smirks knowingly. I roll my eyes.

"What, you mean besides being cock-blocked?" I seriously respond, much to his entertainment.

"Oh shit." He says and busts out laughing. "My bad son, I ain't know you and Jaz got it in this early."

I roll my eyes at his immaturity. "Yes you did." He just continues to laugh.

After he calms down, the atmosphere is quiet. I don't want to leave him down here, I mean he is my brother, but…I kinda wanna finish what Jaz and I started upstairs so…

"Nigga, go'on and handle yo' business. I ain't gon' bother you."

It's as if he read my mind. He's laying back on the long couch with his eyes closed so I have a feeling he'll pass out in a minute. I shrug and stand up.

"Alright then." I reply with no response from him. I just hope we don't wake him up. Jaz can get pretty loud.

* * *

Okay, so what do you guys think? And yes, the chapter is short, but ya'll know me. I don't do short chapters for long lol

But please review guys! Love ya!


	2. Complicated

What it do my niggas!

Ya'll KNOW I ain't got nothin' but love! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story! I promise I'll try to update as soon as possible! My next update will be All This Love. I'ma try to finish that story before moving onto my other ones, but y'know how plans can be easily altered. :/

I'll never give up though. I'm determined to finish all of my stories, so I won't let the fans down :D

Shoutouts (of course) to my homies: misseylady, Schweetpea1870, Terri Shiro, MissG2020, Cruella de 'Chelle and shay x jaeg! Love ya'll!

NOW! This chapter ain't hella long either, but the later ones will be. Ya'll already know what it is!

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN SHIT BUT THE OCs!

Read please! :D

* * *

CHAPTER 2: COMPLICATED

Damn, yo. They some freaks for real!

I told my brother to go'on head and be with his girl, but I ain't think niggas was gonna be _this_ inconsiderate! I'm tryna get some sleep and I keep hearin' squeaks and screams. Shit! I came at the wrong time.

I was about to make a joke about that, but I'ma just leave that alone.

So yeah, they done now. I'm just trippin' off of how long they been doin' it. It's 9:30 in the morning yo. I got here around 5:00. Shit crazy. But now I can finally get some rest. It's everybody's day off and I know them niggas got to be worn out.

As I'm lying back on the loveseat in the living room, I can't help but think of her. Damn, what _really_ happened back there? We were both pissed off and said some things we (hopefully) didn't mean. That don't mean we won't hurt though. She told me I was a worthless bastard, so I called her an insecure bitch. Yeah, we took it that far. I regret everything man, but she hurt my feelings too. Once again, I don't mean to sound like a bitch, but this is real. That's my woman, the one I love and the one that I plan to be with forever, but…shit ain't workin' out like I thought it would. It's just getting worse and worse.

Want to know how I ended up here, huh? Yeah, I knew you did. Aiight, now listen up. You only gonna be exposed to this information once because a nigga don't like repeating himself.

* * *

**12:00 PM. Riley Freeman walks up to him and his girlfriend's (Stacia Jackson) front door. In his left hand, he is holding a black briefcase and in his right are his keys he uses to open the door with. As he walks inside, he does so slowly, trying to avoid disturbing his girl's sleep. Come to find out, once he walks in, she's sitting in the living room chair staring dead at him with a big ass attitude etched on her features.**

**All hell has officially broken loose.**

**Mentally, Riley rolls his eyes knowing what's to come: her constant accusations.**

**Before she even opens her mouth, he holds a hand up and sighs heavily.**

"**Baby, not tonight. I'm tired as hell and I just wanna get some rest in." He tries quickly shutting down the unnecessary drama to come, but finds it impossible to do. She just doesn't let up, does she?**

"**Yeah, whatever. So why are you arriving home so late?"**

**Riley groans loudly and turns to head up the stairs.**

"**Not this shit again, Stacia! Damn! I work late night shifts and you know this!"**

**He continues walking and is determined to keep going, up until he hears a loud crash. He stops automatically before looking ahead at the mess on the wall in front of him. **

**Was that…was that…a liquor bottle? An unopened liquor bottle that he happened to pay a lot of money for? Was that full liquor bottle aimed towards him?**

**Oh, she must've lost her damn mind.**

**He turns around to see his woman enraged. If she were a cartoon, smoke would be coming out of her ears, nose, and mouth. That's how heated she looked. What was her problem?**

"**Stacia, have you lost your fuckin' mind? You tryna kill a nigga?" He yells incredulously. He's about to say something else, but when she marches up to his face, he'll never admit to this, she's actually really intimidating.**

"**Riley," Her voice is so low and dangerous. "Do NOT lie to me!"**

**He scrunches his forehead together, trying to figure out just what the hell she is talking about.**

"**What the hell are you talking about?"**

**See?**

**She blows out through her nose and bites down hard on her bottom lip. If looks could kill, surely he'd be dead by now. Riley just continues to look back at her with confusion and frustration written all over his face.**

**They stare at each other like that for what seems like an eternity (really five minutes). It isn't until Stacia attempts to slap him when the silence is broken. Luckily, Riley catches her wrist and carefully places it back down. Stacia is trying to unleash another nigga out of him, and he is not trying to go there.**

"**Stacia TELL me what the problem is NOW!" He demands loudly. **

**She stares at him evilly again and snatches her wrist out of his hold. She crosses her arms and closes her eyes as if doing a mental woo-sah. Riley impatiently waits. He is tired and she is wasting his time with bullshit nonsense.**

"**Why haven't you answered your calls?" She finally speaks in an even tone, though it's clear that she is still highly pissed. Riley shakes his head and decides to even his tone as well.**

"**My phone died and I left the charger here." He explains truthfully. But Stacia shakes her head and laughs sarcastically.**

"**Oh for real?"**

**Riley rolls his eyes. "Yeah."**

**She nods and purses her lips together as if she is pondering. **

"**Okay, okay. But you got a car charger though, right?"**

**Aw shit. He didn't even think to charge his phone in the car. Had he done that, he might not have ran into this problem.**

**Oh wait, that's a lie. There's a 'problem' every night.**

**He sighs and blinks slowly, almost rolling his eyes again. **

"**I didn't think about th-"**

"**SO!" Her voice grows as she cuts him off. He sighs again. Here she go.**

"**You go to work from noon to night and you mean to tell me not ONCE did you think about charging your phone in the car? Not on the WAY to work? Not during your lunch break? Hell, not even on your way HOME?" She sarcastically laughs again and shakes her head, now placing her hands on her hips. "You are really something, you know that?"**

"**I'm something?" Riley responds with a pissed off smirk. This woman is doing too much. He still keeps his tone even though. "I'm not the one blowing up a nigga's phone, knowing damn well he's in a working environment."**

"**Oh, so your phone won't really charged, was it? You were just ignoring me? Is that it?"**

**Riley's eyes widen in irritation. Give it a rest already!**

"**Where the hell did that come from?"**

"**Because!" She yells. "You the one sittin' here complaining about me hitting you up, like I'm bothering you. So I take it that you're ignoring my calls!" Riley groans and turns around to head up the stairs. He does not have time for this.**

"**Whatever yo. I'm goin' to bed."**

"**No the hell you're **_**not**_**!"**

"_**Yes**_** the hell I **_**am**_**! Good**_**night**_**!"**

**He turns on his heel and proceeds to walk sluggishly up the stairs again. The next thing that comes out of that girl's mouth stops him in his tracks…**_**again**_**.**

"**You know, you're just like all these other **_**niggas**_** around here. Always chasin' after some random broad when you got a good woman at home. " She laughs dryly, causing him to squint hard as if she could see his face. She could care less about how he felt . "You, my dear, are nothing but a worthless **_**bastard**_**." **

**He spins around and glares at her. She remains unfazed, arms crossed and all. **

"**Excuse me?"**

**She places her hands on her hips and does the typical neck roll black girls were known for. **

"**You heard me, nigga." She replies in a soft, yet firm tone. **

**Riley didn't know where it came from, but he lets out a strange laugh…an almost scary one and shakes his head.**

"**I'd expect insecure **_**bitches**_** like you to say something like that."**

**Ohhh shit.**

**Then there's a loud gasp. **

**Damn. He did NOT mean to call her that at all. As soon as he said it, he was willing to take it all back. His eyes are wide, and so is his mouth, but there is nothing he could say to make the situation any better. Stacia's glare intensifies.**

**That's when the decision is made.**

"**Nigga, get the fuck out of my house." The tone is low and threatening. Not daring to say another word, Riley rushes up the stairs, hurriedly packs his things and trots down the steps. He notices she's still standing there in the same spot, but for the sake of his life, he doesn't even turn to look at her. He just heads out the door he had recently entered not too long ago.**

* * *

And that was that. I wanted to apologize and tell her I didn't mean to say all that, but she wasn't trying to hear that shit. Next thing I know, I'm at the front door of my bro's crib at 5 something in the morning.

On the real though, I can't blame me not being able to sleep on my brother. I wouldn't be able to go to sleep if I tried my damndest. My thoughts keep drifting towards her. I keep trying to push her in the back of my mind but shit does not_ work_.

"Shit." I groan. Hell, if I can't get no sleep around here, might as well make myself useful. I slowly get up off the couch like an old ass man and stretch out. This shit got a nigga all tense.

I march my sleepy ass into the kitchen and open the cabinet to the right of the fridge. I see me some pancakes and get a little hype. Back when we were living with Granddad, I was a _beast_ at makin' pancakes. Huey was too. Shiiiit, if we won't good for nothing else, it was us whippin' up some pancakes in the kitchen.

But we _are _good for something else, just sayin'.

"And I say hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah…fucking right, fucking right, alright!" I loudly recite the lyrics to my nigga Drake's song and do a little dance. I still hum the song (not on no gay shit though) as I pull out the pancake batter and close the cabinet. I kneel down and open the bottom cabinet for a medium sized frying pan.

That's done.

Now I close that and place the pan on the stove. I open the fridge for the rest of the ingredients and pull a spatula from the drying rack.

Five minutes later, I pour the finished batter into the pan and go to work! Since I'm feeling better, I open the fridge and pull out the bacon. Shit looks funny though.

And that's when I read the label: _Turkey Bacon_.

I should've known.

I roll my eyes and sigh.

"_This_ nigga." His ass always goin' overboard. I heard from the doctors that even _turkey_ bacon won't good for you, so he buyin' this fake shit for nothing!

Anyways, like I said, I'm feeling better so I cook that too.

It isn't long before I hear someone yawning. I turn to see my brother looking at me funny, with his basketball shorts and his white tee. Nigga just wearing that because I'm here. And I greatly appreciate it. Nigga better not be runnin' around here in his night attire while I'm here. He better save that shit for his girl.

"What up, nigga." I say, ignoring his funny look. He walks in casually and opens the fridge, probably fishing for some orange juice. Even as a grown ass man this nigga's habits are the same.

"Hey." As I assumed, he pulls out the orange juice and grabs a plastic cup from the stack on the counter. "Sorry we kept you up. Jaz doesn't know how to keep it down."

I snicker as I pour some more of the pancake batter into the pan after the first batch is done.

"Ya'll some freaks. It's cool though. I probably needed to get my ass up to keep from thinking about my own problems."

Although, I can't keep from thinking about them because I just mentioned it!

I hear him sigh, but I don't turn to him. I don't feel like talking about it.

"Riley, you wanna talk about it?"

I had a feeling he did.

His voice is mixed with annoyance and concern. I know how he is with me. He gets frustrated because he wants this shit to be done and over with, as if I don't. He probably knows how to fix this problem, but because of the fact that I don't want anyone to help me, it pisses him off. He just gon' have to get over it!

"Naw."

He sighs again, but remains quiet for a while. Soon I feel him standing over me.

"Damn, nigga!"

"I'm just making sure you don't ruin the pancakes. I'm hungry and for the first time in _life_, lazy as hell. I was gonna starve until lunch or until Jaz woke up, but you're here now sooo…"

"Nigga hush. When have I ever fucked up pancakes? You know I'm a master at this shit."

Huey gives me a 'whatever' look and I can't help but laugh a little.

"Just sayin'."

He walks over to the counter and grabs another cup.

"Since you're being generous and making everyone breakfast, I guess I'll do the same. You want some orange juice?"

I shake my head.

"Nigga yo' lazy ass just gon' offer me _orange juice_?" I ask with a light smirk. "Not eggs, not cheese toast, not a damn sausage biscuit, but _orange juice_?"

He gives me another look. "You want it or not?"

I smirk. "Yeah nigga, thanks."

"Don't mention it." He tells me as he pours orange juice into my cup.

"Yeah, now you need to stop fuckin' so early in the morning. Your character 'bout gone. You never _this_ lazy." I laugh as he shrugs with a smirk and passes the cup my way. He walks over to the kitchen table and pulls out a chair to sit down.

"Don't hate." He jokes. His dumbass got me weak.

I always get a kick out of my brother having a sex life. His name and the word sex used to not even fit. It wasn't until a few years ago when him and Jaz stopped bullshitting did that change. I remember waking up finding two afros on his pillow. I was weak as hell and they were trying so hard to shut me up. It wasn't until Huey threatened to tell Granddad about my 'fundraiser' business back when I was a kid that I stopped laughing altogether. Shiiiiittt, Granddad holds grudges and he will kill my ass, grown and all, because of some shit that happened way in the past.

"Shit, ya'll niggas need to hurry up and get married. Ya'll been living together for about two years now, and known each other since the fifth grade." I say it jokingly, but at the same time seriously. They been together for a hell of a long time, and they ain't have no real problems. They meant to be married, and I ain't no sensitive, gay ass nigga. Just speaking the real.

He sighs and leans back on the fridge. "Honestly, I've been thinking about it."

At the moment, I was drinking my orange juice, but now it's splattered all on the stove top.

"Whaaaatt?" I look to him with wide eyes and a wide ass grin. "Did I hear you correctly? Huey Freeman trying to propose?"

"Be quiet." He warns me as he takes note of me being loud. I apologize quickly and get back to the subject. "And wipe that up off the stove."

"Aiight nigga, damn." I respond as I reach for a rag and wipe it up.

"But yeah. I'm saving up for a ring right now."

I throw the rag into the sink and pour more pancake batter in the pan.

"Damn. You decide where to propose at?"

He looks to the ceiling in thought.

"I'm still tryna figure that one out. I mean, most proposals are corny, and I'm not tryna have that problem."

"Haha, true." I gotta agree. Some niggas be lame as hell with it.

"Yeah, but I'll figure it out."

I nod as I place some finished pancakes on a plate and check on the bacon. "Well shit, I'm proud of ya'll. Even though I don't act like it sometimes. Ya'll got that shit Granddad and Grandma used to have."

He smirks and nods. "Thanks man. I don't know if we got it like them though."

"Shiiieett." I respond to his bullshit remark. Him and Jazzy good for life. The fuck _he_ talkin'?

* * *

I shake my head at my brother's reply. I'm pretty sure Jaz and I will be together 'til we die, but you can't compare our relationship to what my grandparents had. What they had was rare. Jaz and I don't have any major problems, but we do argue from time to time about stupid things. My grandparents had that type of love where they already knew what each other were thinking, that way they would avoid having to piss each other off. They were definitely soul mates. They weren't that old couple down the street arguing over whether _Soul Plane 3: Niggas in Africa_ was the best movie of all time or not (and it's not, by the way).

I don't know man. I can't explain it, but their love was something that I have never seen before. It was so strong, ridiculously strong.

I was only eight when Grandma Dorothy passed, but I could never forget how loving that woman was. I was seven year old when she was diagnosed with stomach cancer. It could've probably been treated had she known about it a year before. Six months later, after my birthday and all, she lost her battle with the disease. When she passed…man, I thought Granddad was gonna have a heart attack. I'd never been so terrified in my whole life. Aunt Cookie had to rush him to the hospital. I couldn't say anything. I was too hurt at the moment. My grandmother died and my granddad was put in the hospital. The only thing that kept him alive was the fact that he wanted to take care of me and Riley. Although through the years we got on his last nerve, we knew he wouldn't have it any other way. As of now, he still begs us to come over every Sunday for dinner (reenactment of _Soul Food_).

But to me, there's no way me and Jaz's relationship compares to theirs.

"I'm almost done cookin' so you can call Jaz down if you want." He says as he's rinsing out the hot pan in cold water.

"Naw, she doesn't like breakfast food."

He zips his head in my direction. "What?"

I nod knowingly. "Yep."

He shakes his head as he drops the pan in the sink and flips the bacon. "Crazy."

"That's what I told her." He laughs.

"Aw damn, you got away with callin' a black woman crazy?"

I shrug.

"She's half and half so she let it slide." I joke. He laughs again and shakes his head.

"Shit. Nigga you a good one. That shit won't fly with Stacia. Her ass will bite my head off." He smirks, but then obtains a distant look.

I sigh.

"Riley,"

"Naw, I'm good nigga. Don't press the issue."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not pressing anything, Riley. I just want to know what's up." I tell him, cutting the bullshit. "What made you come over here…again?"

He silently drains the bacon and puts it on the same plate the pancakes are on before rinsing out the pan.

"C'mon Riley. You can talk to me about anything, you know that right?" I assure him. I hate it when he unnecessarily holds out on me, as if I'd turn on him if I found out or something. He knows I'd never do that, so him blocking me out is really starting to piss me off.

He sighs and turns around to face me. It looks like he's about to have a mental breakdown, but he manages to pull himself together.

"She kicked me out…for good this time." He announces, sounding defeated. His shoulders slump the expression on his face is of pure confusion, guilt and sadness. What the hell _happened_?

"Man…what did she do?" I ask sympathetically. I don't think I've ever seen my brother look this pathetic.

He takes a strip of bacon, crunches on it, and shakes his head.

"Man, I don't wanna get into that shit. Just know that we said things we won't supposed to say, and shit got real since then."

Whatever that means. I don't wanna pressure him into telling me, but I'll find out eventually.

"Well if you don't wanna talk about it now, we don't have to but we gon' talk about it later."

He rolls his eyes and mutters a "whatever".

Whatever my ass. I'm serious.

* * *

As I wake up, I find myself alone. Alone in a bed that's supposed to occupy two bodies. I reach over to feel the empty space and pretty soon I feel tears drowning my face. Damn I miss him. Why did it have to go that far? If I hadn't called him a worthless bastard, he'd still be here. I didn't want to call him that, because I know he's not, but he just pissed me off so badly. Why on earth does he insist on lying to me time and time again? I know there are plenty of gorgeous women parading around in tight skirts at his job. Men are liable to be drawn to those sluts, and Riley is no exception. I'm not saying that he can't be faithful or loyal, but it's pretty hard to believe he isn't attracted to anyone else but me.

After a few minutes of feeling like shit, I hop out of bed and shower up. About forty-five minutes later, I head out to see Cindy. I want to see Jaz, but I already know _he'd_ be there. I couldn't deal with seeing him yet.

"Hey girl!" Cindy greets as she hugs me. I try my best to hide the pain and smile brightly at her. Knowing her though, she could see right through me, but I guess she's choosing to ignore it for now.

"What's up!" I reply before stepping into her home.

"Yo, I'm hype about this weekend!" She gushes, ushering me into the entertainment room. I'm still amazed at how spacious her home is. I look at her, confused about what she's talking about.

"Why?"

She gives me a duh look, and for a while I'm confused…then it hit me.

"MIGUEL!" I yell as it all came back to me. Damn, I've been son consumed in my own thoughts I forgot my favorite artist was coming. I'm slippin'.

"Uh, yeah?" She made me sound stupid. "Girl, what's wrong with you? You been talkin' about this all week last week."

I giggle a little and shake my head. "Yeah, I know. Just a lot's been on my mind, that's all."

"So much that you forgot Miguel was comin'?"

I shrug. "Guess so."

She stares me down as I take a seat on one of the plush chairs. I feel her eyes on me and shift uncomfortably.

"Okay, Stace, what's _really _going on? You seem different." She finally points out, standing up against the wall across from me.

I stare back at her for a while. I know she knows about how rocky me and Riley's relationship has become, but I get so sick of talking about it. I just give her the typical,

"Oh, you know…"

And she gets it.

She rolls her eyes and groans loudly, shaking her head. I don't blame her. I'd get sick of hearing about my friends' relationship problems all the time too.

"Ya'll niggas need to get it together for real. I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but I miss ya'll bein' disgustingly in love." She half-jokes, trying to get me to laugh. I just smirk and say nothing. She's right though, which is probably why I have nothing to really say.

"Ya'll was just so much happier then. I hate seein' my niggas miserable. That shit's a no-no in my book. Shit, go to a couple's therapy or somethin'." She suggests as she shakes her head again. Although I heard the amusement in her last statement, I knew she was serious. And I just may consider it.

Y'know, whenever I get the chance to see him again.

"Anyways," She adds, changing the subject to brighten the dim mood. She's holding two DVDs in her hands. "Scarface or Love and Basketball?"

I give hear a deadpan look at her movie choices (Riley's favorite movies). Really?

"Orrrr…." She grins as she turns around and picks up another movie from her TV stand. "Poetic Justice?"

I point at her approvingly and smile. "My nigga."

She snickers and pops it in.

"We need some popcorn, though."

"Hush up, nigga!" She shushes me, making me roll my eyes.

While the movie's playing, I try my hardest to push any thoughts of Riley to the back of my head, but find it impossible. Everything about this movie reminds me of him. Tupac's character really reminds me of Riley. Even though they aren't exactly the same, they're alike in some ways. Like the way Tupac cares for his family, the way he cares for the girl he really likes, and the stupidly funny things he does to impress the girl he likes. Without being a cornball, he's kind of sweet, and Riley's the exact same way.

Or was.

"I'll be back, girl. I gotta go to the bathroom." I announce. She just nods before pausing the movie for me.

I practically sprint to the upstairs bathroom to get away from Cindy as quick as possible. As soon as I close the door behind me, I start sobbing uncontrollably. I don't want her hearing me, because then she'd ask me what was wrong and then I'd be crying on her shoulder like a big ass baby. I know I can lean on my friends for anything, but I've got to handle this on my own.

I can't lie, I miss him so much. I just don't want to face him right now because I want to avoid confrontation. It gets really tiring. I just want to relax.

But I have a feeling that I'll cry all over again.

After a good two to three minutes of endless tears, I wipe my face, and stay in the bathroom until my face is cleared up and back to its normal color. I don't want her suspecting a thing.

I walk back downstairs to find Cindy pouring popcorn in a bowl. I squeal to purposely annoy her.

"Aww, Cindy! You listened!"

She shushes me loudly, holding a finger to her lips. "Hush! Girl, you was upstairs for a pretty long time. Takin' a dump?"

I roll my eyes at her inappropriate question. But she is Cindy after all.

"Think whatever you want. I'm back to watch the movie."

She shakes her head and resumes the movie.

"Mm hmm. All I know is my house better be smellin' like flowers."

I laugh and shake my head. What am I gonna do without that girl.

* * *

Idk what you're gonna do without her Stacia. I just don't know, but you NEED to get back with Riles and quit trippin'!

Okay, so I'ma clear this up for the public. Their fight was not the reason Riley was kicked out. Stacia was fed up with his "so-called" lies, and the fact that he called her a bitch was just the breaking point. It wasn't just because he called her a bitch. But yeah...either way, they need help.

Review plz! xD Thanks in advance!


	3. Thinkin' Bout Ya

What up ya'll!

Chap. 3 on deck!

Yeah so, story was deleted because I cursed in the summary. Big deal -_-. Anyways, I'm back ya'll! Hope you enjoy this chap! It's the longest one yet!

And thanks to all who reviewed, favorited and liked my story before it was deleted. I really appreciate it!

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING BUT THE OCs!

Well, leggoo!

* * *

CHAPTER 3: Thinkin' Bout Ya

Tonight's the night!

Me and the girls are going to see Miguel live at the Woodcrest Dome. I'm so excited! I love that man! I wanted Huey to go with me, but he said he didn't want to see me gushing over someone who isn't him. Haha. He doesn't like admitting it, but he's _definitely _the jealous type.

And with Stacia and Riley having problems, it'd be a total disaster having the both of them together with us.

So it's just girls night!

After hearing a ten minute lecture from Huey about staying away from people who appear 'friendly', people who appear 'threatening', or just people who appear, I rode over to Cindy's. We all decided to ride with her since she had the best-looking car; a 2011 Toyota Mustang. I always tell her about how much I hate on her because of her car. Haha, it's all in fun though.

We look good, if I do say so myself! I have on a red short-sleeved blouse with black jeans and black sandals. My hair is in a tight bun on the top of my head. I don't have much make up on. Just soft pink lip gloss and concealer. I'm wearing my gold hoops and my golden butterfly necklace Huey gave me for my birthday two years ago. For right now, I have my black tote bag on my arm. I know I'll have to keep it in the car once we arrive at the concert though.

Stacia is wearing a green casual dress that stops at her knees. It's really cute and flowy. She's wearing gold sandals with gold accessories and green eye shadow with gold specks to complement her deep grey orbs and her dress. She has her hair in one braid over her right shoulder and carries a gold Coach purse. I see why women hate on her so much. Stacia is really beautiful. She's one of those girls females would love to hate. Of course I'm not that way, but I've seen other girls do it.

As for Cindy, she's sporting her white and green marijuana leaf t-shirt, black jeans, and her green chucks. She's such a delinquent. She looks cute though. She unbraided her hair, so now it's crinkly and draping over her shoulders. She has large silver hoops and her silver charm bracelet. She likes to embrace her natural beauty, so she doesn't wear makeup. She just put Blistex on her lips. Hehe. She's still a little bit of a tomboy, but she's all woman. She's actually been with more dudes than me and Stacia combined. I've only had two boyfriends in my life and Stacia's had four. But Cindy's been with at least eight guys. She's never been in a serious relationship though because she's so afraid of commitment. I don't see the big deal, but…maybe it's because I'm a hopeless romantic. Whatever.

"Surely, you aren't wearing _that_ to the concert." I mention as I point at her shirt. She shrugs.

"What's the problem?"

I shake my head. "It's inappropriate, Cindy." I inform her monotonously. She scoffs and waves her hand dismissively.

"Girl please. What's inappropriate is being unprepared for shit when you know what's going to happen. I know niggas gon' light up as soon as the show starts. Maybe even before then."

Stacia nods. "She's right, about the smoking part. You could smell indo a mile away from the damn place."

Well _that's _something I'm not looking forward to. How am I going to look coming home smelling like weed? Huey's going to think I've lost my damn mind.

"Even so, what's the point in wearing the shirt?" She shrugs at my annoyed tone.

"I like it."

Stacia snickers. "Can't argue with _that _logic." She adds sarcastically.

I roll my eyes, but smirk anyways.

"Whatever. Ya'll ready?"

Cindy jumps up dramatically. "Hell yeah nigga!" I shake my head as Stacia laughs.

"Calm down." She says as we all head out the door.

"I can't. I'm too hype! I'ma see my baby Miguel!" She screeches jokingly as we hop in her vehicle. She's such a nut. Haha.

"Pssh. You can keep him. The nigga ain't that fine. He's just a lyrical genius." Stacia says. I agree. Miguel looks…weird. Sometimes he looks cute, and sometimes he looks, like I said, weird. He even looks like a girl sometimes. He needs to fix that, quickly.

Cindy sucks her teeth and rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Ya'll niggas trippin'. That nigga sexy!"

Stacia snorts. "Like I said, you can keep him."

"Well, on a positive note, his music is hot. I don't care about his looks." I tell them as we pull out the driveway. "He could look like Gucci Mane and I'd still love him because he's so talented."

Cindy laughs loudly at that, but I'm serious. Stacia joins in with her.

"Girl, if that nigga looked like Gucci Mane, I would not be able to take his ass seriously." Stacia says. I laugh this time. I guess looks would matter to a certain extent. Well…at least Miguel looks decent. Gucci Mane…no comment.

"True shit." Cindy adds. We all laugh and start talking about the cute guys in Hollywood, comparing them. Out of the three of us, Cindy has the worst taste in men. Well, at least I think so.

* * *

Cindy's crazy. She thinks Pooch Hall looks better than Shemar Moore. Granted, Pooch is fine, but really? The nigga's name is _Pooch_! His mama oughta be slapped! Who can take that nigga seriously? Plus, you can't compare him to _Shemar Moore_. Pooch has a baby face, whereas Shemar got that grown and sexy thing goin' on.

"Ya'll trippin'! Pooch is sexy as hell!" She screams as we turn into the parking lot. The place is packed! It'd be a miracle to get through all of this.

"He's cute, but Shemar Moore is sexier. I stand by that." I argue. Jazmine laughs at us.

"You both are crazy. Michael Ealy looks better than the both of them combined. He was even given the title 'The Sexiest Man Alive', so that goes without saying." Jazmine informs us. I roll my eyes.

But…she ain't lyin'. Michael Ealy is sexy as _hell_. Even without those blue eyes, he'd still shit on the other niggas in Hollywood.

"Yo…I'm with Jaz though. That nigga fine as a mothafucka. I wouldn't mind bein' his boo for one night. Gawwdddayum!" Cindy bellows goofily. She got me and Jaz cryin' over her dumbass.

It takes us a minute, but we finally find a parking space. About damn time. As we get out the car, Jaz is already complaining, covering up her nose.

"Ugh! What the hell am I smelling?" She inquires irritably. Me and Cin just laugh at her expense. Poor, sweet, innocent Jazmine.

"Told you they was gon' start before the show." Cindy announced as she gestured to the large building, shaking her head.

Jaz raises her eyebrow, still holding her nose. "That's the weed?"

"Apparently, you haven't been around us much lately." Cindy jokes.

Jaz rolls her eyes and looks up towards the sky. "God, help me."

"Girl, stop it." I tell her, trying not to laugh. "Look, I'm not a big fan of weed neither, but I ain't gon' die. Trust me, you'll live. You'll get used to it by the time the show starts anyways."

She sighs but nods regardless of her attitude.

"Whatever, let's just go inside."

And we do that.

Though I'm not feeling a hundred percent, because of my personal issues, I do feel a lot better hanging with the girls. I just want to have a good night and forget my problems for a while. This concert is gonna be on point! I already know.

* * *

"I sho' did!" Riley yelled, making a few of the boys laugh. Normally, I wouldn't bother to ask Riley to tag along with me, because either he already found out where I was, or he'd be doing his own thing. But, I knew he had nothing to do besides sulk all day at the apartment. Also, I felt bad for him. He's my brother, and no matter how old we get, I'ma always have his back.

"You wrong for that, nigga." Marcus O'neal, a friend of ours since high school, notes with a wide grin. Riley shrugs.

"Bitch need to do the right thing, like Spike Lee. Lyin' on a nigga. Called her ass out."

I shake my head, smirking. He's an asshole when he wants to be, but I guess that's what the woman gets.

Riley told us not too long ago that some woman at his job tried to frame him at work for stealing their boss's plaque. Riley caught her in the act. She was putting the plaque in his desk drawer when he walked in. He asked what she was doing there and she played dumb. Eventually, he walked over and pulled the plaque out of the drawer. So long story short, they argued, he threatened to snitch to their boss (which has always been something Riley was _against_) about her behavior and he also threatened to tell their coworkers how he caught her going down on the boss's assistant. The woman was smart to say nothing and walk away. Riley was good at ruining peoples' reputations when he wanted to.

"She deserved that shit though. You could've done way worse." Lamaar Stevens, another friend of ours since high school, says.

"True shit." Riley adds as he takes a sip of his Crown Royal. Caesar almost reaches for Riley's bottle, but Riley pulls back. "Nigga, what you doin'?"

"Gimme some, nigga! I paid for it!"

"You ever heard of plastic cups, nigga!"

"You downin' _my _drink, bitch!"

"Last time I checked, we all pitched in for drinks, nigga!"

"But I'm the one who had dibs on the Crown Royal! What happened to your Hennessy?"

"Quit actin' like a little pussy punk bitch!"

I shake my head again. This is nothing new. They always fought over drinks. I suggest they buy their own bottles next time if it's that serious. Hell, I'm just fine with this Corona, which is empty by the way.

Marcus stares at both of the idiots as me and Lamaar get up to throw our empty bottles away. Almost immediately, Lamaar fishes for another drink in the fridge. I just take my seat on Caesar's sofa.

"Ya'll niggas fuss about this shit all the time. I say gimme all the bottles you got and lemme whip up some shit." Marcus suggests. I give him a skeptical look, which he returns with a light smirk and a shrug.

Marcus was a bartender last year at Chili's. Even_ I_ can't deny that he's good at mixing drinks. Sometimes his concoctions could fuck you up though. I have no idea _what_ he made the last time, but all I remember is me waking up with the worst migraine imaginable and feeling extremely nauseated, but I never once threw up. So with that being said, I don't really rely on his drinks much.

"Hell naw, nigga!" Riley yells, halting his argument with Ceez. "You fucked me up last time. Felt like I had to take a shit, without takin' a shit!"

Ceez laughs loudly but agrees all the same. "Yeah, I had the same problem."

"Well, I felt like I had to puke, and I never did." Lamaar adds. I nod.

"Yeah, me too."

"Well ain't no one ask you niggas to OD." Marcus argues.

"We didn't!" We yell back. He just rolls his eyes and waves his hand.

"If I recall correctly," Lamaar begins. "You gave us half a cup."

"Yeah!" Riley shouts. "What was in it anyways?"

Marcus smirks as he picks up a few full bottles. "A lot of shit."

"_That _answers the question." I remark sarcastically.

"Don't be like that, Huey." Marcus responds, still smirking. I don't even respond. I just sigh.

"Ceez, you got some Daiquiri?"

Ceez turns his head and points to one of the cabinets. "Coconut and Strawberry."

"Whatever." Riley interjects, standing up to stretch. "Shit better not fuck me up this time, or else I'm fuckin'_ you_ up!"

"…Pause." Caesar adds, much to Riley's chagrin. I smile, trying not to laugh. Riley always called someone out on their 'gayness' but couldn't handle it when someone called him out. Everyone else just snickers.

Riley pouts and crosses his arms.

"Fuck you."

"Pause again." I laugh a little this time as everyone else cracks up. Riley snaps his head my way and I stop, smiling apologetically.

He sucks his teeth like a little kid as he takes his seat beside me again. "Ya'll niggas is gay."

Marcus picks up a few more bottles and sets it on the kitchen countertop.

"Whatever bitch. Quit poutin' and play me in dominos." Lamaar suggests.

Whenever we chill with the guys, it's a lot of shit-talking, yelling, drinking, and games. We always seem to enjoy ourselves, even if the next morning doesn't turn out so great. I'm not taking it there tonight though. I got work in the morning and a woman to attend to.

* * *

I'm proud to say that Marcus did a good fuckin' job. He ain't fuck us up this time.

So far.

I can't lie, I'm a little faded, but I'm feelin' good.

You know what? It was fun hangin' with my niggas; just like old times. I'm glad Huey invited me, although I probably would've found a way over to Ceez's house anyways. I had to entertain myself, just to keep my mind off of my _own_ bullshit. I needed to do something to steer me away from ultimate depression.

Right now, I'm ridin' in a taxi with Huey. That nigga a little buzzed too. Haha, I know he gon' be pissed tomorrow about leavin' his ride at Ceez's place, but he's real adamant about keepin' us alive, and I did not feel like hearin' the "drunk driving" speech again. Nigga could be annoying even while under the influence.

"Yo," I begin, breaking the silence. I look at my bro. He just looks out the window.

"What?"

I sigh as I slump a little in my seat, getting more comfortable."You know what would've been a perfect way to end this night?" Yo, I sound like I'm on another planet or some shit, like I'm high. This nigga put bud in the drinks or somethin'?

"What?" He repeats.

"Goin' to the strip club." I tell him. He stares at me as I stare back and all of a sudden we both start busting out laughing. Yeah, he definitely put bud in the drinks. Alcohol don't do this shit.

"Hell naw, nigga." He starts, smiling like I told him the funniest joke in the world. I can't talk. I'm doing the same thing. "You think I want Jaz cursin' me out about some naked woman all over me? That's no ass for a week."

I crack up loud as hell as he starts laughing too. What the _fuck _is we _on_? We trippy mane. Huey don't never say no shit like that. And the funny thing is, I don't think he lyin'!

"Nigga, you wild!" I yell. I know that taxi driver mad at us. He probably callin' us all types of ignorant niggas. Hahaha. "Shit, ya'll need to take a break anyway. Got niggas wakin' up in the middle of the night and shit."

He deadpans as he stares at me again. I just start cracking up again.

"We've never had you wakin' up in the middle of the night. If anything, it was like…the crack of dawn or something." He defends, correcting me, I guess. Nigga don't sound too sure himself. "Your lazy ass needs to wake up anyway."

I snicker at his last statement. "Nigga, don't sit here and claim that ya'll fuck for my benefit. You just inconsiderate, that's what the fuck that's about."

"How you know?"

"Nigga, I know." I assure, with a goofy ass grin. "I mean, ya'll niggas go at it when_ever_! The pussy can't be _that_ good."

"You ever _had_ the pussy?" He challenges, raising that fuckin' brow. I can't help but laugh at this nigga again. Shit probably won't even that funny. I'm just trippin' so hard and not givin' a fuck.

"Well the pussy _shouldn't _be that good." I rephrase.

"Ohhh, but it is." I snicker at his exaggerated response.

"You trippin'."

"I'm for real." He says before squinting his eyes and putting his hands on his head like he got a headache. "Yo, why the fuck am I actin' so damn goofy?"

I shrug and snicker at the same time. "I don't know. Marcus probably put some indo in the drinks, man."

He nods slowly, clearly affected by the alcohol. "Had to. I ain't never felt like this, even when I was buzzed in the past. Feels like I hit Nirvana."

My ass starts laughing again as if the nigga was Kevin Hart. Yo, fuck it. We high as shit. We can't deny it. And Huey _knows_ he like the feeling. I'm just waitin' for him to deny it.

"Welcome to my world." I tell him as my laughter dies down. Shit. I'm hungry as a bitch. I hope Jaz done whipped up somethin' in the kitchen.

He glances over at me for a second before looking out the window. "Whatever. I just hope we don't wake up having problems."

"True shit."

We just chill in the backseat in comfortable silence. I honestly think I dozed off a few times before we reached our destination. I feel Huey tap me and I lazily turn my head his way. I let out a long yawn and open my door as he gets out on his side. I stand beside him, ready to crash as Huey pays the driver.

"That'll be $25.00, sir." I look to Huey as we both hear that bullshit ass price. Normally Huey would bitch about stupid shit like that, but he's not in the mood. He hands the man the money and the bitch instantly drives off. Not smart. Nigga could've had less than what he charged.

"Dumbass only got $10.00. I wasn't done payin' yet." My bro lets out with a smirk.

What I say? Nigga should've been patient!

I shake my head. We both shrug at the ordeal.

"That's what he get, tryna rip niggas off and shit." I laugh uncaringly.

"He probably charged more because we were aggravating him." He adds. I nod, still laughing.

When we get in the house, we don't see Jazmine. She must still be with the girls.

"Damn, she ain't here." I groan as I take my seat on the sofa AKA my temporary 'bed'.

"Well her car wasn't outside." Huey remarks, as he turns just about every damn light on downstairs. He then goes upstairs for a long while. For a minute, I thought he was goin' to sleep, but then I see him in ballin' shorts and a white tee.

"Damn I'm starvin'. Where ya boo at, yo! Shit! She slippin'."

"She don't gotta cook for you, nigga. You got money, use it."

"Spoken like a true pussy-whipped nigga."

He scoffs. "Spoken like a true lonely nigga."

"…Fuck you, bitch."

"I'd rather ya didn't."

I roll my eyes before closing them and resting my head on the arm of the couch. I feel the weight of the couch drop, realizing it's only Huey.

"Man, for real, I could use some pussy right now." I reply after about five damn minutes. I know I'm late, bitch. No need to point it out.

My eyes still closed, I hear my brother laughing at me.

"I'm serious, nigga. Feels like I'm celibate. That shit gay as fuck!"

Huey shakes his head after his laughter dies. "So what you gon' do?"

"Nigga, I _told you_ we should've went to the strip club! I'd fuck a bitch quick! Say I won't!" I dare, cracking my eyes open.

He snorts.

"You won't." I suck my teeth in irritation.

As usual, I'm just talkin' shit. I know I do a lot of that. I'm not just gon' fuck a random broad. Reezy don't get down like that. I got my woman, I'm stickin' with her until or unless we break apart. If I'm a free agent, it's whatever. But I'm not a free agent. Sure as hell feels like it though.

Either way, I'm horny as hell! No sex for two weeks. Hell. _No_!

"Who asked you, nigga!"

"No one asked me. You dared me to say I won't, so I did."

"YeahyeahwhateverniggaSHUTUP!" I run my words together before closing my eyes again. As I hear him about to talk some more shit, I fake snore over his words. He soon gives up talking, but instead of a lecture or a verbal argument, he hits my forehead hard as a bitch.

"Fuck you, nigga!"

"Again I say, I'd rather you didn't." I roll my eyes at his smartass comeback.

"Gay ass nigga." I mutter in annoyance.

He just turns around and walks to some other room. I don't know where he went. I'm 'bout ready to pass out. Shit I don't ever sleep without food, but tonight could be the only exception.

I sigh as I walk over to my opened suitcase in the corner of the room and search through it. I pick up my black Nike ballin' shorts and my white wife-beater. Huey ain't in the room, so I hurry up and change my clothes. I close my suitcase and put the clothes I just changed out of on top of it. I'll wash my shit when I'm sobered up.

There's a stack of covers in the hallway closet, so I grab one and walk back over to the sofa. In no time, a nigga's sprawled out on the couch. I reach for the remote on the coffee table and turn it on. There's some nigga up there promoting some energy drink or somethin'. I don't know. I can barely hear him as my mind's drifting further and further away from reality.

* * *

Tonight was fun! Miguel killed it! We thoroughly enjoyed the concert. We even bout some shirts and gifts for…well, ourselves. Hehe. The boys don't care about him like we do.

"Girls like you, remind me why I'm loooonelyyy!" Cindy busts out in song, still hype off the concert. Hell, we _all _are

"Yeeeaahh!" I join in. "Remind me why I'm loooooooneelyyy!"

"No one to play Connect 4 with me!"

"I Declare War, with me!"

"Knocked out and snore, rollin' around in my beeeeddd!"

Jazmine just laughs at us as we continue to sing…or attempt to, horribly.

"Wooo! Ya'll, I'm hype as a bitch! We need to go to an after party." Cin suggests...very loudly. I don't even get how she could be so riled up and drive at the same time. I sure as hell wouldn't be able to do it. She's good at multitasking.

Jazmine snorts. "And have Huey lecturing me tomorrow morning? I think not."

Cindy chuckles and shakes her head. "That nigga acts like he yo' daddy."

Jaz smirks and looks down at her lap. "Well…" She trails on purpose. We just laugh. We all know her and Huey are undercover freaks who aren't ashamed of letting people know about their personal lives…if they were asked.

"Anyways," I loudly interject, still laughing a little. "I _would_ be up for an after party if we didn't have to work tomorrow."

"…Shit." Cindy mutters, almost incoherently. "I forgot about that."

Jazmine sighs as she leans back in her seat. "Yeah. I don't want to, but Tasha will be on our asses if we don't show up."

I nod slowly, looking out the backseat window. "Yep. I don't even wanna _think_ about hearing her mouth."

Tasha is our boss. She's cool most of the time, but she don't play about skippin' work. The three of us work at the Woodcrest Movie Theatre. I'm considering switching jobs though. It's not even fun anymore. Sure I can get discounts on movies and food (Lord knows them food prices are too high), but it's boring doing the same thing again and again. I swear, I can't wait to get an actual career. In three years, I'll have my Degree in Cosmetology. My dream is to open up my own salon. Whenever that does occur, I'll be ultimately satisfied.

"Shit. Well what shift y'all got tomorrow?" Cindy asks, her hype mood rapidly dwindling down.

I play with my earring while looking out the window. "Three to nine."

"PM?" I roll my eyes.

"Duh, Cindy."

Jazmine snorts at my response as Cindy just flips me off.

"Mine is twelve to six."

"Me too."

I groan. "Well, at least I get to see you guys for three hours."

"Yeah." Jazmine mutters, sounding distracted. I look at her and see her taking a picture on her iPhone. I smile.

"Twit Pic?" I ask. She looks at me and shakes her head.

"No sweetie. This is for Instagram!" She beams and looks back down on her phone, doing whatever.

Oh damn. I forgot about that app. I don't even know what an Instagram is. I just heard people talking about it.

"Speakin' of which, you need to hop on that Stacia." Cin jumps in. "Instagram ain't complicated like Twitter and Facebook. It's just pictures. You like them, and you comment on them if you want. Simple."

Well, although I am tired of all these new social networks and whatnot, it doesn't sound bad.

"I'll consider it." I finally say. It's not long before we pull into Cindy's driveway. Jaz and I stay there for a minute before we go our separate ways and head home. And boy I tell ya, that ride home was…such a lonely one. You wouldn't have guessed I was so amped about an hour ago. I shake my head as I turn the radio up to rid my depressing thoughts. Still doesn't help, especially since Whitney Houston's _Where Do Broken Hearts Go_ is blaring through the speakers.

"Oh hell no." I mutter and turn the station. That's when I hear Aaliyah's _We Need A Resolution_. I shake my head and turn the volume all the way down. Music's not an option right now.

When I head to my place, I put my stuff in my room and kick off my shoes. I sigh and walk downstairs to whip me up a quick PB and J sandwich. It's awkward around here without Riley. It's almost as if he's…dead. God forbid that happens. I'll never forgive myself.

After I'm done eating, I go back upstairs and change into my night clothes: hot pink short shorts, and a white tank top. I'm too…depressed to take a shower now, so I'll do it in the morning. I lie in my bed and let my thoughts drift into another world.

* * *

_My heart is beating. My hands are shaking. My mind is going blank. I'm at a loss for words._

_There, standing in front of me, is the woman I've been dying to see for the past couple of days, and I'm standing here like an idiot._

_She's wearing that perfume she knows I love: Pure Seduction by Victoria's Secret. Her bone straight jet black hair is draped over her shoulders, and her face is clear of makeup. She's like a blank canvas. I love her natural look more than anything. No weave, no makeup, no fake nails, and no damn contacts. Those grey eyes are real. She's one of the only black females in the world who doesn't look weird with it. That lame ass Lil' Mama looks like a wolf with hers. She probably got contacts anyways._

_Anyways, her attire is something I haven't seen in a long time. She's wearing her grey sweatpants, her white tank top that kind of hugs her chest a little, and her unzipped matching grey jacket with the black Ugg boots. Despite how relaxed she looked, she was still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Hoes in high heels couldn't even compare to her on her _worst_ days._

_The Goddess in front of me was just as awkward as I was. Her hands were behind her back, her eyes were shifty, and her left foot was tapping randomly on the hardwood floor. Right then, I notice where we are._

_My kitchen…our kitchen. I'm back in our house. How did I get here though? Did Huey take me home after I fell asleep on the couch? But then how am I standing her unknowingly? All dressed up and shit, ready for work? I look down, and sure enough I got on my black suit and my black briefcase is at my feet. I look up and finally take in her facial expression. The look is blank, but I know her too well. In there, I see pain, guilt and sadness. I start feeling the tug at my heart. This is my baby. I'd never want to hurt her. I hate the fact that I did. Who knew two words would lead us to where we were._

_We both continue to look at each other in an uncomfortable silence, awaiting someone to speak up. After a while, I open my mouth, but she beats me to it._

"_I hate this." _

_Her tone is so low, I almost couldn't make it out. I manage to hear her though. I lightly tug at my braids, feeling kind of weird. I've never felt this way when I was with her, until now. It's not easy trying to recover from a fight as intense as the last one we had._

"_Me too." I finally reply, my tone a little clearer than hers, but still considerably quiet. _

_I watch her as she brings her right hand over to her left arm and rubs it lightly. Her eyes shift to the right as mine shifts to the left. That Space Needle magnet on the refrigerator door looks really interesting right now. We stay silent again for a while._

"_Why don't you trust me anymore?" I inquire out of the blue, eyeing her again. She doesn't respond immediately. She looks at me in confusion, her head cocked to the right and her eyebrows almost connecting to each other._

_I sigh and lean back against the wall. "You've changed."_

_She just stares at me like she's…studying me. Then, her eyes soften and she bites her lip, almost nervously._

"_Riley, maybe it's not me who's changed."_

_That hit me. I stare back at her with my eyebrows almost touching my hairline in shock. She says I've changed…but how? I'm still the same old Riley she met back in high school. If anything, I upgraded. I'm working at this stuck up ass corporation I don't even like, I'm going to college, I'm living my life like a grown man should. It's not as if I changed for the worst._

"_What makes you think that?" I question in a quiet tone. She looks at me for a minute. I'm waiting for her to answer my question, but she just looks down to the grown, turns on her heel and walks away, leaving me standing there alone and confused…once again._

_I leave the kitchen and try to follow where she went, but I don't find her anywhere. Where could she be?_

"_Stacia!" I yell all throughout the house. I don't hear a response. I shake my head. What is going on?_

_As I walk to the living room, I sigh and pull out my phone for the time. My shift starts in about thirty minutes. I look up and jump as she stands in front of me again. This time there's a change in her demeanor. Once again, her look is blank, but her eyes tell a different story._

_She is livid._

"_Work again, huh?" She asks smartly, although she already knows. I hesitantly nod. I don't know what's going on right now, so I just go with the flow. She scoffs and rolls her eyes as she stomps up the stairs. I hear the door slam shut this time. I groan irritably as I walk out the front door to my car. As I open my car door, I jump again as I find her sitting in the driver's seat. What the fuck?_

"_Stacia!" I yell on impulse. "What the hell are you doing?"_

_This time her face is soaked with never ending tears from her beautiful, now puffy, eyes. She gets out after I take a step back and hugs me warmly. Guilt washes over me once again. I hug her back and close my eyes, basking in the warmth. I love her. Maybe a little too much, but whatever._

_I pull back, forcing her to do so too and gently grab hold of her face. I kiss away her tears and rest my forehead against hers._

_She has her eyes closed for a minute, but as she looks up into mine I see more tears falling._

"_Please…please, don't give up on me." She hopelessly begs before she closes her eyes again. I hate it when she cries. It really does break my heart._

_I pull her close and hold her tight. She buries her head in my shoulder and bawls all over again. I kiss her temple and put my lips close to her ear. "I'll never give up on you, baby." I whisper. I hear her whimpers against me and I bite my lip to keep from crying myself. I succeed in not crying, but my heart remains heavy. I'll keep fighting for my woman. She won't get away from me that easy._

"Rileeeeyy!" I hear someone calling me in a sing-song voice. I groan loudly as I realize it's Jaz, waking me up the most annoying way she knew how. I groan again and open my eyes. I look around and realize I'm still at my bro's crib.

"Damn." I whisper in disappointment. I thought that dream was real. It was kind of unrealistic having Stacia pop up in front of my face all the time, but the emotions were so real, the dream was so vivid.

I roll my eyes as Jazmine moves my feet and sits in the spot they were just in. She picks up the remote and turns to some stupid soap opera called _The Old and The Relaxed_. The _hell_?

"Okay, so you wake me up, move my feet and sit in my area just to watch some sentimental bullshit!" I explode, my voice a little raspy from sleep. She ignores me with a smirk and sits back more in the chair.

"Shut up." The hater covers for his girl as he comes in with a plate and sets it on the coffee table in front of me. Aww shit. That was nice of him. "Enjoy, carnivore."

I snicker as I slowly sit up. I look down at my plate and see hash browns, eggs, bacon (and no, not the _Turkey _bacon) and pancakes. "Thanks man." He nods and goes back in the kitchen. I basically devour that shit, ignoring Jazmine's sniffles as she watches some nigga Henry take his last breath. About damn time the nigga died! He's been on life support for nearly two seasons. I know because Stacia watches that shit, too.

"No! Not Henry!" Jazmine cries. Huey comes back out and looks at the TV, taking his seat by me.

"Damn, he finally died?"

"I know right? Nigga took forever to croak."

Jazmine glares at us. "You guys are jerks!" She yells, wiping her eyes with the Kleenex she pulled out of her purse. "He had prostate cancer!" I roll my eyes. Huey shakes his head.

"Jazmine, it's a show."

"SO!" She snaps back immediately. I snort at her response. Women and their TV shows. I'll shut up before she goes off on me. That's the last thing _I _need.

"I'm just sayin'. He lived way too long." Huey goes on. Jazmine puts her hand in his face to silence him, but the dumbass just kisses her hand briefly. She giggles. I snort and shake my head at them. _These _niggas.

"Anyways," I begin before niggas start gettin' all flirty and shit. "I'ma take a shower. 'Preciate the breakfast, bruh."

"No problem." I hear him say while I'm trotting upstairs.

As I close the bathroom door behind me I look at myself in the mirror. Well…I definitely don't look different, aside from the fact that I've matured. I turn around and lean against the counter suddenly consumed in my thoughts. I close my eyes and think back on the dream. It felt so real…_too _real. Especially the ending. I shake my head and close my eyes as I envision her crying face in my head. Shit. There ain't no way I'm stoppin'. I gotta talk to this girl.

I sigh and walk over to the shower turning on the water.

I can't give up on her. I just can't.

* * *

He just can't. Giving up on her is something he can't do!

So what ya'll think? You like it? Did ya? Did ya-did ya-did ya!

Okay, yeah I'm sleepy and hella goofy lol. Review please! :)


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